


A Study In You and Me

by somethingwithapencil



Category: Supernatural, a bit sherlock
Genre: A Study In You and Me, Angst, College AU, Crossover, Fluff, M/M, Masturbation, Multi, Smut, Underage Drinking, m/m - Freeform, somethingwithapencil
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-06
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-01-18 08:56:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1422262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somethingwithapencil/pseuds/somethingwithapencil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The time has finally come for Dean and Castiel to start university. For Dean, its a breath of fresh air. For Cas, it’s a reminder that his life may need a new start. Full of new situations and people, Cas struggles to hang onto Dean as life begins to drift them apart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Reckless and the Brave

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: all characters belong to the CW.
> 
> Smut to ensue in later chapters.

Gabriel wasn’t sure what was going on when his parents woke him up so early in the morning during his quickly dwindling summer vacation. All he was told was that he had to clean his room then make himself look presentable.

After tidying up his room, and as he was putting on his best button down shirt, Gabriel stole a glance out the window. It was a beautiful sunny day, and he only had two weeks left of summer vacation before he started middle school. He had been hoping on spending it making a little extra cash for the school year. The allowance his parents gave him was hardly enough to fix his busted bike, it was barely even enough to satiate his sweet tooth with pastries from his favorite donut shop down the street: “Cake Hole”. Luckily he had thought up a couple of ways to make some fast money (the neighbor kids would fall for anything). But it would have to wait for another day apparently.

Gabriel zipped up his slacks, combed his brown hair out of his face, and sized himself up in the full-length mirror hanging on the inside of his closet door. His hazel eyes were staring back at him, mischievous glint ever present. He plastered on his most charming smile, dimples and all, in an attempt to look “presentable.” _Ugh. Screw that_. Gabe thought and headed down the stairs none too excited. 

The only reason he wasn’t making a fuss was because he could tell his parents were on edge. His philosophy was “Be the cause of people’s discomfort, never the target,” so he hadn’t complained… _yet_. Although no matter how many times he tried, Gabriel couldn’t get them to tell him what was going on.  
“Just wait,” they would say. “It’s… a surprise,” was all he got as his parents moved about the house in a fidgety manner. Gabriel instead decided to go plant himself on the sofa and watch tv until whatever the hell was about to happen, happened.

About an hour and a half later, a taxi pulled up to their home. Gabriel was in the living room with his mom and dad, and as his mother went to answer the door his father pulled him aside.

“What’s going on Dad?” Gabriel asked, looking at his father’s strained expression.

Mr. Novak looked back at him for a second before letting out a long breath, placing a hand on his only son’s shoulder, “Son, you remember how your auntie was having trouble after her husband left?” his dad began.

Gabriel looked back at his father, not sure where this was headed. He only had one aunt, his father’s sister, and as far as he knew, the only contact they had with her was the generic pharmacy type Christmas card they got every year sometime around New Years.

“What about her?” Gabe asked plainly. His interest was piqued now; their extended family was estranged and rarely brought up in conversation. Now his parents were walking on egg shells at the mention of his aunt. 

_What for? Where’s the punch line?_

“Well her son, your cousin, Castiel, is going to come and stay with us.” His father replied.

_There it is._

“Huh,” Gabriel raised his eyebrows, “I didn’t even know she had a son. And why is he going to be living here? What about his parents? What happened?”

Gabriel’s father shook his head slowly, still looking his son in the eye. “Listen here, Gabe. Castiel never really met his father; he left before Castiel’s third birthday. He needs a family now. ”

“What do you mean? He has a mom.” Gabriel said trying to grasp what his father was getting at.

“Your aunt…tried. She did. But it was too much for her. She’s sick, very sick, and has to go away to try and get better...” Mr. Novak paused for a second before continuing, searching for the right words.

“Son, Castiel hasn’t had a happy life. It’s been tough for him growing up without a family, without people to care for him and love him. You’ll see that he hardly says a word. But from here on out that’s going to change. It’s our job to give him a home. It’s our job to make him smile. You understand don’t you son?” Mr. Novak said as he patted Gabriel on the back, and then leaned in to hug him.

And even at the young age of fourteen, Gabriel understood. He really did. Growing up without a family? Didn’t take a genius to figure how awful that would be. Gabriel only had his parents but he couldn’t imagine one of them being absent for the rest of his life, let alone two. He heard what his dad was saying, but he wasn’t going to feel sorry for Castiel, like his father said, that wasn’t his job. 

His job was to make him smile.  
*

Castiel was weird.

When he had walked through the front door that first day he looked worse than Gabriel would have thought. He seemed worn out, scrawny for an eleven year old and had a mop of jet black hair that made his freakishly blue eyes look even bigger on his round pale face. He was quiet, walked in without saying a word and just kind of stood there staring at nothing in particular. 

“Castiel welcome to our home, son!” Gabriel’s father said as he reached over to grab Castiel’s duffel bag. “Here, follow me and I’ll show you your room!” Gabriel’s father continued, perhaps a bit too overenthusiastically to try and get a response out of Castiel. Gabriel too was looking at Castiel to see if he would react. All they got was a subtle twitch of the mouth and what could have been a confirming nod or sudden neck spasm. Either way it seemed like Castiel got the message and followed his uncle up the stairs.

Gabriel waited until his dad had left Castiel alone to unpack before he walked in to properly introduce himself. Apparently Castiel hadn’t brought much with him besides a small bunch of clothes and a couple of second-hand books. In fact, Castiel was pretty much done unpacking by the time Gabriel walked in.

“Dude, I came up to see if you needed help settling in but it looks like you got it covered,” Gabe said as he observed the practically vacant room.

Castiel had been looking out of the window when he turned to see who had come to speak to him. “Hello,” Castiel finally said. “Thank you very much, but I was able to manage on my own,” he replied quietly. 

“Holy crap,” Gabe whispered, only partially as surprised as his expression made him out to be. “It speaks English!”

Castiel tilted his head in confusion but didn’t respond, so Gabe, as per usual, continued the conversation on his own.

“Hey can we keep your fluency of the English language just between you and me? Because I was gonna blame your silence on the fact that you couldn’t speak English. See, I was planning on convincing the parental units to pay for lessons so I could communicate with you in your native tongue. I’ve been wanting to take Spanish. You know, to impress the ladies.” Gabe rambled on.

It seemed as though Castiel wasn’t listening until he finally responded with a perfect: “Si, como quieras...”

Now it was Gabriel’s turn to stare with his head tilted in confusion as Castiel’s comment was followed by a few beats of dead silence between the two of them.

“…What the hell was that?” Gabriel asked in a whisper, with sincere astonishment this time.

“…Spanish,” Castiel whispered back. And if Gabe didn’t know any better, he would have sworn that there was meant to be an implied “duh” at the end of that sentence.

“I thought you were eleven...”

“I am eleven.” Castiel responded plainly, staring intently at Gabriel.

“Well tHEN WHEN THE HELL DID YOU LEARN SPANISH.” Gabe squealed, his surprise causing him to raise his voice.  
Castiel was taken aback when Gabriel yelled, so it took him a moment before he finally answered.  
“…I use to have a nanny.”

At that Gabriel’s surprise withdrew a bit because it was finally making some sense, “Oh, so she spoke to you in Spanish and you picked it up?” he concluded.

“No,” Castiel corrected him…

And was that a blush spreading across his cheeks? Gabriel thought.

“She let me watch Dora the Explorer.”

*

Over the next couple of weeks Gabriel became really fond of Castiel (or “Cassie” as he had started calling him). The kid was hilarious in an unintentional, dry humor kind of way, but after he had made Gabriel lose his shit with that Dora the Explorer confession, he had won him over. Anyone who could make Gabe laugh that hard (and for days mind you) was a keeper in his eyes. And it seemed like Castiel was at least amused too when he would accidentally make Gabe laugh; he would even crack a real smile when he couldn’t help it.

The only downside to Castiel was that it was no fun pulling pranks on him. Gabe had tried a variety of classics but either Castiel wouldn’t get it, or he wouldn’t react. And there would certainly never be any retaliation. Without the fun reactions, Gabriel lost interest, so instead he used Castiel as an accomplice to his many schemes, which turned out to be way more fun for Gabe in the long run. He actually did manage to get away with his “Castiel doesn’t speak English” plan for a few days, but unfortunately Castiel only knew a handful of phrases in Spanish. The jig was up as soon as Gabriel’s mom had asked the neighbor lady over to talk to Castiel. Apparently, the lady had asked Castiel how he was feeling that day, but Castiel panicked and answered, “Delicioso.” The neighbor lady had taken offense for some reason and left in a huff. 

“I’m sorry I messed up, Gabe.” Castiel had apologized after, his face actually expressing some serious emotions for once, only he looked devastated.

“Cassie, are you kidding!?” Gabriel laughed, putting an arm around his pouty cousin. “That was one of the most hilarious things I have ever witnessed! You can’t make this stuff up, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d say I got the looks and you got the humor.”

Castiel lightened up at that, “Really?” he asked.

“Yeah, but I do know better, so I got the looks AND the humor,” Gabriel joked. “Sorry bro!” he laughed, and just to prove his superior sense of humor, pulled up Castiel’s shirt and wrapped it over his cousin’s head before running away giggling to himself.

Had Gabriel not exited the room laughing at his own joke, he might have witnessed the expression plastered on Castiel’s face when he had finally managed to pull his shirt back down. A large goofy grin had spread across Castiel’s face stretching from ear to ear, accompanied by the faintest of laughs.

*

“Oh shit,” Castiel cussed under his breath as both his arms and left leg flailed about, trying to keep him balanced on his skateboard. He had hit a rather nasty crack in the pavement while looking the other way, keeping an eye on a group of guys walking in his same direction, but on the other side of the street. Those particular guys had a tendency of ruining Castiel’s day, especially when his “big brother” Gabriel wasn’t around.

Not that he needed Gabriel to fight his fights for him, but Castiel had to admit that he seemed to run into trouble less when Gabe was around. Which didn’t make much sense to Castiel when he thought about it. In the two short years he had living with his relatives, he had never seen or heard of Gabriel getting into physical altercations with the neighborhood bullies. He must have other ways of keeping them at bay, which somehow made Gabriel a bit more intimidating.

At the moment, said bullies seemed to be making their way to the library, which was unfortunately exactly where Castiel was headed. His stomach clenched and he began to feel a little anxious. He clutched onto the book he held under his arm a little tighter, trying to decide if he should go a different route or abort the mission all together.

Luckily, the bullies ended up veering into the convenience store on the street corner. Castiel was extremely relieved and took the opportunity to pick up some speed on his skateboard to race ahead, making it safely into the library.

Once inside he slipped his skateboard on his back, held in place by his backpack, and made his way to the check out counter, stacking his book in the “return” pile. After which, Castiel walked down the familiar rows of books, making a beeline for the sci fi section. He had just finished reading “The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy” and was very eager to pick up the next book in the series.

Once it was procured, Castiel headed out the side entrance of the library, still being cautious, though doubting very much that the bullies from before were the type to frequent the library to acquire literature for leisurely reading.

Castiel pulled his skateboard from behind his backpack and set it at his feet, about to take off when he heard rustling and vicious words coming from behind the library. He turned cautiously, peering around the corner.  
“What the hell,” Castiel’s eyes widened, chest tightening in fear, forgetting how to breathe for a moment as he watched the three bullies, all older than he was, move in like a pack of hyenas on a single boy.

Castiel recognized the boy from school; his name was Dean. And at the moment, Dean was getting the crap beat out of him by Castiel’s bullies.

Dean was built a little sturdier than Castiel was, even though they were in the same grade and probably close in age, but Dean didn’t seem to be holding up much better than Castiel would have, based on the times he had been targeted. In fact, they were really digging into Dean. So much so that they had him on the ground, breathing hard and cringing in pain.

Just as Dean picked himself up off the ground, he was pinned back to the brick wall by one of the henchmen, the one wearing the red striped shirt (Castiel had never really bothered to learned their names). The other two stood back, smiling from ear to ear. 

The one in the grey sweatshirt was the pack leader. And as his red-striped henchmen pinned Dean to the wall, he stepped up to him threateningly, “I’m going to give you one last chance, Winchester,” he said with a smug smirk plastered on his face. “I’m being very generous.”

Castiel watched as the second henchmen in the green pullover walked around and slugged Dean in the stomach. All Dean could do was groan, curling inward before the red-striped minion straightened him up again. 

“Oh, lucky me,” Dean choked out. “Cram it with walnuts, ugly.”

The three boys all shared a low, frustrated laugh. “You gonna let him talk to you like that, Zach?” the red-striped minion egged on.

Zach threw an unexpected punch across Dean’s face that startled Castiel, causing him to gasp and retreat around the corner. He closed his eyes, conflicted on what to do. His body screamed to run away, as the sound of a fist hitting flesh and maniacal laughter rang just on the other side of the wall. It was horrifying to listen to, like a soundtrack he couldn’t turn off.

Castiel also knew that if he left he’d never forget or forgive himself. How many times had he been harassed by those assholes...sure not nearly to the same extent, but all the same wishing something, anything, could put a stop to it. And Gabe always told him, “Don’t be an ass. How would you like it if someone pissed in your Wheaties?” At the time that hadn’t made much sense, and to be honest...well, it still didn't make much sense. But his instincts told him that this situation somehow applied. Probably. Which meant that if what Castiel was about to do turned out to be a huge mistake, well at least he’d make Gabriel proud _...maybe._

Castiel took a deep breath to steady himself. He looked down at his book, hands shaking as his fingertips brushed the cover, thumbing through the frayed pages. They offered no evident comfort except the reminder that there is such a thing as an unlikely hero to a story. The idea settled into his mind and he smiled to himself. He looked over his shoulder.

Dean had fallen to his knees, clearly fighting to rise to his feet. With every attempt, he was knocked down, only keeping his balance enough to remain upright. Castiel knew that if he thought about it any longer, he’d let his body take over and end up running back home.

He sighed heavily, “Fuck it,” and ran straight toward the danger.

He pushed Zach to the ground, falling on top of him. Castiel curled up his fist and socked him across the face as hard as he could before the two minions pulled him off, dragging him to the ground. They landed a swift kick across Castiel’s face, the sickening thud it made ringing in Castiel’s head. He turned to the side in time to see Dean who had finally gotten to his feet and was now lunging at the two minions.

Castiel was still disoriented when he felt a pair of hands grabbing onto the lapels of his coat and lifting him to his knees. Zach’s fist then collided against Castiel’s cheekbone, but almost instantly, he kicked the backs of Zach’s knees, sending him to the floor as well.

Castiel took the opportunity to stagger over as fast as he could to where the two henchmen were kicking the crap out of an unresponsive Dean who was sprawled on the ground. Castiel could only see the side of Dean’s face, but he could make out dark pulpy blood flowing from his nose and mouth, face already starting to bruise. The guy in green threw one last swing before Zach finally called them off, seemingly having had their fill, and the three ran off.

Dean was still sprawled on the ground, his head in Castiel’s lap. Castiel looked down at the other boy, quiet panic in his eyes slowly dwindling as he watched Dean’s chest rise and fall, facial expressions indicating he was coming to. 

Castiel winced. He felt pain wash over him now that the adrenaline had worn off. His misery was throbbing in sync with the beating of his heart, the only reassuring indication that he was still alive.  
He could feel warm beads of perspiration roll down the side of his face. He wiped them away and pulled his hand back; it was stained dark red, most likely from the kick he had taken to the face.

He looked up to the skies and took a deep breath. Took a minute to appreciate the fact that he was a moron, and also, _“Ow, everything hurts.”_ Then he glanced back down at Dean who looked ten times worse. His face was a bloody mess and his clothes were torn and dirty after taking the beating. Castiel really needed to get Dean home, it was getting late, but he didn’t know where Dean lived. He hardly knew anything about him. But he couldn’t just leave him alone; not leaving him was the whole purpose of joining the fight.

Suddenly Dean’s hands wrapped around Castiel’s, the only movement he had made other than his steady breathing. Castiel flinched at the warmth in his hands; it felt surprising against the biting cold of the winter air surrounding them. 

Dean finally opened his eyes and stared back at Castiel. The red blood covering Dean’s face making his green eyes sharply stand out.

_Wow, those are green._ Castiel thought, then internally shook himself because _What the hell am I talking about…_

“Who are you?” Dean asked, his voice surprisingly clear and eyes demanding. Clearly this one was a fighter. 

At that Castiel had a sudden suspicion, “Crap. Don’t tell me I saved one bully from another,” but he quickly shook the thought because Dean didn’t know Castiel at all either. He was the new kid in town, probably why he got beat up, and after what he had just been through, had every reason to be defensive. 

“I’m the one who just saved your ass,” Castiel smiled, quickly regretting it because again, _ouch._ “My name is Castiel.”

Dean simply stared back up at Castiel for a moment, probably trying to make sense of the last ten minutes. Castiel gave him a moment before the prolonged eye contact was finally broken when Dean shook his head to focus and attempted to sit up on his own, groaning in pain. He curled over to his left side. Castiel stood up and helped him to his feet. “Yeah, thanks for that,” he finally responded, “Are you okay?” Dean asked.

Castiel just nodded and watched Dean cautiously. His left eye had swollen completely shut and there was not a bit of skin on his face that wasn’t covered in grime. Dean was breathing hard, bent over with his hands on his thighs like he just ran a marathon.

“Do you live close by?”

Dean looked up at Castiel, glancing him up and down before providing a, “Huh?”

“Your house? “ Castiel suddenly grew shy, digging his hands into his pockets. His knuckles felt sore. His face felt flushed and he prayed the redness in his cheeks was camouflaged by the bruising on his own face. Curse his awkward social anxiety. He had no problem making polite conversations with strangers, but he had just had his ass kicked for this kid he hardly even knew. Castiel normally kept himself out of trouble and yet here he was trying to play hero for the new guy. It felt a bit excessive somehow and now he felt a bit embarrassed. 

“I’ll catch a bus,” Dean assured him. “Thanks.” 

Castiel quirked his eyebrow and was about to say something because _really?_... but maybe he had intervened enough today.

Dean sighed though, “Alright, what is it?”

“Oh, um,” Castiel looked up at the darkening sky. “Well I was just wondering what the people on the bus would say if they saw you. They’d probably be a bit shocked.” Dean continued to stare at Castiel as if waiting for him to make a point. “You’re covered in blood,” Castiel said bluntly, “It’s not pretty.”

“They’ll just have to deal,” Dean retorted, subconsciously wiping at his face.

Castiel smiled again, despite the pain. “I live close by. You can clean yourself up a bit and I’ll have my aunt take you home.”

Dean pursed his lips together, “Just like that?...Is that okay?”

Castiel didn’t answer. He simply went to retrieve his skateboard from around the corner. “Let’s go.”


	2. Pig 'N a Poke

A Study in You and Me  
Ch. 2

The two young boys had been walking in silence for a few blocks, getting strange looks along the way due to their beat up faces. Also, they weren’t walking so much as they were limping and practically dragging each other down the street. Dean was in worse shape and had an arm propped over Castiel’s shoulders so as to lessen the burden on his abused shin, using Castiel as a crutch.

“My name is Dean Winchester, in case you were wondering at all.” Dean offered after a prolonged silence between him and the Friendly Neighborhood…”Castiel.” The quiet had been fine at first, but Dean found himself curious about Castiel, and then realized he hadn’t even introduced himself.

“Yes, I am aware of who you are.” Castiel replied quietly, adjusting his skateboard to keep it from falling out from under his arm.

 _Perks of being the new kid_ , Dean thought. He noticed that most everyone you meet in a new town would already know something about you. He used to think it was cool, now he found it a bit annoying. Dean glanced over at Castiel and tried to think of where he might have seen him before. Nothing came to mind, though it was entirely possible they went to school together. Dean had only just started at the local Jr. High a few days ago. There was no way he would recognize people just yet.

In fact he was having trouble recognizing Castiel right now. When Dean flipped through his memory of the fight, Castiel had seemed way different. The kid who had rushed into battle for Dean, then helped him get back on his feet after, had made a different impression. For instance, that kid had sworn like a sailor (well for a thirteen year old), fought back courageously, had an impressive battle cry, and apparently rode a skateboard through this town’s streets of injustice looking for pitiful kids in distress to save from asshole bullies (at least that’s how Dean would later tell it). That kid had been a beast. But said beast had retreated as the silence between them had taken its place.

This kid, the timid one who couldn’t even look Dean in the eye now and spoke with such a quiet monotone voice, awkwardly fidgeting with the skateboard under his pit…well this kid was a dweeb. And Dean wasn’t sure what to make of him. He was however, grateful that this _beast of a dweeb_ had come around when he did, and Dean couldn’t help but smile fondly at him. Dean would definitely have to make it up to him someday.

“Ah, _ow_...crap.” Dean grimaced when he stepped off the curb to cross the street. He wasn’t even sure what part of him had felt the sharp pain that was now making its way to the pit of his stomach in a wave of nausea. He wondered if he looked worse than he felt, though doubted that was possible.

“Are you alright?” Castiel asked, setting Dean gently down on a bus stop bench.

“Yeah, I’m cool. I just need to catch my breath real quick.” Dean replied with a huff of breath. He bent down and lifted his jeans up past his ankle. Sure enough, a huge, nasty, dark purple bruise was already forming on his right shin. “Ew, damn.” was all he said as he rolled his pant leg back down.

Castiel sat down next to Dean on the bench, setting his skateboard at his feet.. “If you don’t mind me asking, why were those guys beating you up? I can’t imagine them already having a bounty out for your head.” He asked, finally looking up to meet Dean’s eyes.

“Oh, yeah that.” Dean mused, and after giving it some thought, actually started laughing. Then immediately stopped because another wave of pain wracked his body. He couldn’t help it though, he had just realized how dumb of a day this had actually turned out to be.

He turned back to look at Castiel who was staring back at Dean with a very intense look of confusion and concern at the sudden onset laugh attack. “I was actually on my way home when I heard those bullies picking on some poor kid. I didn’t know who he was, or why they were picking on him for that matter. Although come to think of it, his dumb mullet would have given them a good enough reason...Anyways, the kid was scrawny and helpless-”

“-So you got involved and got beat up yourself.” Castiel offered, eyebrows raising as he was starting to get the big picture.

“Yeah. Pretty dumb of me, huh? I mean, who does that?” Dean teased, and sure enough Castiel was staring back at him wide-eyed with a blush spreading across his cheeks.

“It’s not that dumb.” Castiel mumbled looking away. He did have a small smile spreading across his face now though. Surely the irony of him putting himself in the exact same situation he had saved Dean from, hadn’t escaped him. Dean could tell that Castiel was a smart kid, previous reckless acts of heroism not withstanding.

“Just so we’re clear, I really do appreciate what you’re doing for me man. Not just stepping in back there, but ya know, helping me get back home. I think my old man would kill me if he saw me like this.” Dean gestured towards himself, shaking his head, “I’d never hear the end of it.”

“Don’t mention it.” Castiel said getting to his feet. “Always happy to bleed for the new kid.” he added sarcastically, shoving his skateboard to the side with his foot to avoid tripping on it. “Time to go. I’m sure you can muster the courage.” he added with an encouraging smile on his lips.

 

 _Interesting_ Dean thought. He noticed Castiel had a tendency to slip back and forth between the sassy reckless kid from before, and the timid quiet one who had been helping Dean down the past several blocks. Dean wondered if there was some sort of trigger that caused Castiel to gain that extra bit of confidence, or maybe one that caused him to lose it, or both...

Castiel reached over towards Dean, wrapping the other boy’s arm around his shoulders, both grimacing at their injuries. “We’re almost to my aunt’s house, just a few more blocks.” They both got to their feet, Castiel reaching down to pick up his skateboard again before continuing their trek to his house.

 _Thank god_. Dean thought. He really just needed to maybe change his shirt and wash the dirt and excess blood off his face so as to avoid immediate attention from his parents. Then it wouldn’t be hard to keep a low profile. Sammy might be a problem though. He wondered if Castiel would run into problems.

“So you live with your aunt, huh? What about your parents?” Dean asked without thinking. He realized too late that he might have overstepped. Dean didn’t know Castiel’s story, but hoped he hadn’t put him off by getting too personal. Castiel didn’t give him an answer right away. He seemed to be running through a lot of thoughts all at once before he turned to look at Dean.

Dean had some trouble reading the expression on Castiel’s face. It wasn’t sadness exactly, or anger. It was a reigned in combination of the two, resulting in a heartbreaking look of... _acceptance? Resignation?_ Dean couldn’t be sure. 

Castiel just let out a sigh, “Yeah, chalk it up to family issues,” he said quietly. Dean felt like a jerk for bringing it up. His face grew still as he contemplated what to say next.

“Hey man, I get it.” Dean was looking ahead now. They were finally making their way into the residential area where identical houses lined the streets. “Families can suck sometimes,” he continued, “I can understand that.” He couldn’t help but think about his father, and the problems his parents had been having lately: the loud arguments, the hushed bickering...the silence. Somewhere along the line, things had changed. He didn’t want to bring all that up now though, this day didn’t need any more help sucking.

Dean realized the mood had turned sour between him and Castiel, the silence inching its way toward awkward. They were in desperate need of a change in topic. Luckily one presented itself when Castiel turned off the street and guided Dean up the driveway of a house whose only distinguishing feature from the other houses was a large, fancy, yet kinda ridiculous looking, cherub fountain plopped in the middle of the front lawn. The thing was huge, tacky looking, and frankly really out of place in front of the subtle elegance of Castiel’s home. Dean couldn’t help but bust out laughing at it, pain be damned.

“Dude! What the hell is that?” Dean barked out in between laughs.

Castiel smiled almost proudly at the fountain, surely there was some backstory there. “Oh, that’s ‘Baby Gabe’ and please, no touching,” he laughed, as he swatted Dean’s outstretched hand away. “Come on, let’s go get you presentable.” he added, steering Dean inside the house.

*

Gabriel was barely able to make it up the driveway without doubling over with laughter. The look on his parents’ faces on the ride home from the DMV had been priceless. He had finally received his learner’s permit and convinced his mom to let him drive home. He wasn’t as confident with a stick shift though, and it was entirely possible that his horrendous driving was the reason his parents were currently still sitting in the car, trying to collect themselves and shake off the scare.

Gabriel entered the house and made his way up the stairs to his room. He passed the hallway bathroom and could hear the faucet running. Castiel was back from the library then.

 _Awesome, now I can tell him about the drive home._ Gabriel thought to himself and couldn’t help but chuckle as he knocked on the bathroom door.

“Hey Cassie! Open up man, some hilarious stuff went down today. So we were on our way home right, when I almost hit a-” Gabriel stopped mid sentence. The bathroom door had swung open, and apparently Castiel had forgotten to close the faucet because it was still running, but the bathroom was empty. That hadn’t been what had shocked Gabe into silence though. There were bloody rags piled in the trash bin. Gabriel felt a cold fierce panic consume him in seconds.

“Castiel!” Gabriel shouted, running down the hallway. “Answer me, dude, come on!” He burst through the second bedroom door, anxiety making him clumsy and causing him to stumble. He caught himself right before hitting the floor of his cousin’s bedroom and wildly searched the area with his eyes.

Relief flooded through him when he saw Castiel emerging from his closet, stuffing wadded up clothes into his hamper. Gabriel instantly took noticed of his bruised face though. Castiel’s eyes went wide when he saw his older cousin. He stood rooted to the ground, looking around in a fidgety manner so as to avert Gabriel’s stare.

“Hey!” Gabriel demanded, “Come here, Castiel. Look at me.”

“Um...okay.” Castiel finally looked up at his cousin and made his way towards him. Just then he stole a nervous glance past Gabriel’s shoulder.

Gabriel followed Castiel’s gaze and looked back. There was a freckled blond kid he didn’t recognize, sitting at Castiel’s desk. If Castiel’s face looked bruised then that kid’s face was just plain fucked up. One of his eyes was black and swollen. He had a bandage covering all of his left cheek, and he had a cut running across the bridge of his nose.

“What is _that_?” Gabe asked, pointing to the blonde kid. He was starting to feel anger bubbling underneath his skin. Somebody better give a damn good explanation as to why his little cousin had a busted face and felt the need to drag home an even worse looking stray.

“Gabe, it’s okay,” Castiel began, voice cautious. He turned to look at the blonde kid. “His name is Dean Winchester.”

“Winchester. That’s the family that just moved in a couple streets over, right?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, what about him?” Gabe asked pointedly, shooting Dean a dirty look. Part of him realized he was being a bit hostile, but he didn’t have it in him to care. It was talking most of his self control not to blow his top off and keep from yelling himself hoarse. He had to keep his cool though, so as not to alert his mom and dad.

“Well, I was coming out of the library when I heard Dean getting into it with Zach and those other guys he’s always hanging around with,” Castiel explained. He recounted the whole story to Gabriel, and from what Gabe gathered, Castiel was a moron. He shook his head and sighed.

“Cassie, what got into you man? You know Zach and them are bad news. I’ve always told you to steer clear.” He looked at his cousin, trying to figure out just... _why_?

“Was I suppose to do nothing?” Castiel asked him, brow furrowed, stubborn chin jutting out a bit. “I don’t like to fight but I will if I have to,” he said defensively.

Again Gabriel sighed. Damn, Castiel could be stubborn. _And reckless apparently_. “That’s just it Cassie, you _didn’t_ have to. But I guess I can see why you did.” Gabe turned to look at Dean again. If this is how the kid ended up after Castiel had helped him, who knows what he would have looked like without anyone taking a few blows for him. He just wished it hadn’t been his kid cousin because that part of it was what really pissed him the hell off.

“Gabe honey!” His mom suddenly called from downstairs.

“Nobody freakin move,” Gabe warned the two brats. He gave them a threatening glare before retreating from the room and heading down the stairs.

“We forgot to pick up your father’s perscription from the pharmacy. We’re going to head out right quick.” His mom said as she grabbed the car keys and started heading for the door.

“Kay,” Gabriel waved as she headed out, then started making his way back upstairs. He had already reached the second floor and was about to enter Castiel’s bedroom again when he heard his mother call out once more.

“Oh, and if Castiel gets home before we do, tell him not to watch the new episode of Dr. Sexy without me!” She yelled.

“Right!” Gabriel called back, grin plastered on his face despite himself. Oh man he really hoped Castiel and Dean had heard that one. And as he opened the door to a blushing Cassie’s face, both brats avoiding eye contact, he couldn’t help but laugh. _Good that’s what you get_. And at that his anger subsided enough for him to form a plan. Afterall, Castiel didn’t seem too badly hurt, except for the one welt on his cheek. Damn kid.

“Alright listen up. Mom and dad just headed out for a bit, so lets get you guys cleaned up and get Freckles home.” He turned to Dean who had yet to say a word. He kind of reminded him of Castiel in that way, when he had first showed up two years ago, all big eyed and quiet. Only this kid held himself differently, came off as more of a confident person. It showed in his stubborn gaze. It’s not that Dean was shy or quiet, he just knew when to keep his mouth shut. _At least he had some sense in him._ Gabriel thought. He couldn’t help but feel resentment towards Dean though. This kid just attracted trouble. Hopefully this would be the last they saw of him.

***

“You’re all set,” John Winchester said, setting down the final box at the door to the apartment where his son would be calling home for his first year of college. He looked at Dean and smiled at him, his hand reaching out and squeezing his shoulder. “I’m so proud of you, son.”

Dean felt the warmth of his gesture in his chest, smiling back at his father. “Thanks, Dad.”  
His mother, Mary Campbell, came in through the door with a smaller box in her hands, followed by Sam bringing in a lamp that Dean had argued he didn’t want to bring with him. It was the first time they had spent time together as a family since his parents split three years prior.It would probably be the last time for a very long time, so Dean took a moment to watch his family come together for him.

“Dean?”

“What?” He turned to Sam who had set the lamp down on the nearest flat surface. “We’re heading out now.”

Dean felt the homesickness kick in as swiftly at his brother’s words. Just a little moment longer, he wanted to ask. He knew that his parents had other matters to attend to. It was Sunday afternoon and they all had a long drive back to Lawrence. Sammy had school the following day. “Okay.” He pulled a smile across his face.

“See you around, kiddo,” John smiled to Dean as he walked out the door.

Dean could hear his mother in the kitchen, putting away the miscellaneous dishes she had purchased for him only moments ago. He took the time to show his kid brother his new home.

“You know it’ll be pretty cool,” Sam began. Dean turned back to face him. “I’ll have the room to myself for once.”

“Hey, don’t do anything I would, okay?” Dean pushed back the hair that fell over Sam’s eyes, just to make sure he was listening to him. “Be good, and don’t give mom a hard time.”

Sam’s face had grown still. “I never do.”

“Keep it that way,” Dean nodded, “and remember everything I taught you.”

Sam smiled. “I will,” he leaned in and hugged his brother.

Dean let him hug him for only a moment. “Hey, hey,” he softly spoke. “No chick flick moments.”

Sam pulled away. “Jerk.”

“Bitch.”

The two brothers shared a laugh as their mother approached them. Her long blonde hair fell in curls on her shoulders, her sweet, familiar smile greeting her eldest son. She reached up to him and rested her hand on his face. Dean leaned into her touch and smiled.

“I love you, sweetheart,” she spoke in a soft tone, the summer sun coming in through the window softly touching her face, illuminating her. “I will always be there for you if you need me.”

“I’ll always need you, mom,” Dean hugged his mother. She kissed his cheek before heading toward the door. Sam had stood in his place, without moving. The reality of it hit him. Dean wasn’t going back with them.

“Bye,” Sam bluntly stated. There was nothing more that left his trembling lips.

“Bye, Sammy,” Dean waved as his brother finally left.

Standing there alone, Dean was able to take a moment to mentally settle into his new life. The apartment was small. The front door lead directly into the living room. Off to the right was the kitchen, and the two bedrooms were off to the left with a bathroom tucked in between. All the doors were a forest green color and the brown carpet felt new beneath his feet. The door on the far left of the wall lead to his bedroom, where he’d be sharing with Cas. Castiel had been moving in all week, but was going to dinner with his cousin’s family tonight. Dean didn’t know the other two tenants very well. They would be in the room to the right. Castiel knew one of them from freshman orientation. It had been very last minute and Dean hadn’t had time to introduce himself yet.

Their apartment stood in a state of disarray. There were random cardboard boxes stacked outside of the bedrooms. Bits and pieces of bubble wrap and plastic littered the carpet. Someone’s furniture had been placed in the living room, with the couch facing the television that rested unplugged on the floor. The white walls were bare.

Dean walked over to the kitchen and opened the fridge. His mother had put his groceries away and for a moment he wished he had at least that to do to kill his boredom. He was, however surprised to find in place of the six pack of cola he remembered picking out, a bottle of whiskey. It was his father’s favorite brand, sitting by the drinks that were more age appropriate. He smiled to himself, taking the bottle and having a swig.

Footsteps on the stairs approached the front door with an echo of voices. Dean took the bottle and hid it behind him as the door swung open. He smiled as he saw Castiel carry in a large box, keeping his chin high as to avoid scraping it on the contents below. Gabriel was carrying two paper grocery bags in his arms, face flushed from the heat outside. The third person with them was someone that Dean didn’t know. He was wearing what looked to be like a security guard uniform, and was carrying a red suitcase that Dean recognized as Castiel’s. Perspiration beads rolled down the side of his face.

“Was there anything else in the car you needed help with?” the nameless British blonde asked. He was shorter than all three of them, even Gabriel, to Dean’s surprise. He had a kindness to him that radiated off right away, with a soft smile spread across his lips.

“It was just this, thank you,” Castiel let the heavy box fall on the ground. He sighed heavily before turning his attention to Dean, who continued to stand there with the chilled whiskey held behind his back.

“John, this is Dean Winchester,” Castiel gestured towards Dean. The short blonde turned around to face him. “Dean,” Castiel continued. “This is John Watson. He’s going to be our roommate.”

John went to shake his hand and Dean realized he was holding the bottle with his right. He quickly switched it to his left behind his back and smiled, shaking John’s hand, noticing his reaction as he met with Dean’s cold grip. 

Gabriel had come around with the groceries, noting Dean’s hidden treasure and swiftly glanced him in the eyes. Dean clutched the bottle and pressed it closer to him, as if it did anything to hide it. John politely excused himself to the rest room, turning on the air conditioner on the wall as he passed by.

Gabriel set down the bags on the countertop. He walked up to Dean, as close to nose-to-nose as they could get. Gabriel was short, but still managed to make Dean feel small with his glower. “Not even waiting half the semester before giving in?” His eyes glimmered. He cocked his head to the left. “I can’t really say I’m surprised, though.”

“Gabriel, stop,” Castiel pulled him back by the shoulder. The two of them stared at each other for a moment.

Gabriel quietly leaned in to Cas. “Let me talk to you for a sec." He glanced over his shoulder to Dean, who still had his scowl, before heading towards Cas and Dean’s room.

Castiel smiled at Dean who felt himself ease a bit. Cas reached over to the bottle that Dean now let hang at his side and opened it, taking a drink and reacting to the burn. “Wow,” he coughed. “This stuff is really strong.”

Dean smiled, taking the bottle from Cas when he offered it back to him, then watched him disappear into their room.

Gabriel was standing, his face still pink from the sweltering heat outside. Castiel entered the room and shrugged. Gabriel smiled at him.

“Now, you’re old enough to make your own decisions. I know, I know you’re gonna be miserable without me, but-”

Castiel wrapped his arms around Gabriel. “I’m going to miss you too, Gabe.”

“I wasn’t going to say that,” Gabriel smirked and punched Castiel playfully on his arm. Castiel took a seat on his bed and Gabriel joined him. “Be the responsible kid that I raised you to be and don’t do anything stupid.”

“What do you mean?”

“Winchester stupid, I mean,” Gabriel winked. “In case you can’t tame your beast,” he dug into his pockets and handed him a condom. Castiel blushed but took it from him.

“Like I said, I can’t stop you from doing anything,” Gabriel continued, no longer smiling; he was serious now. Castiel noted the transition into big brother mode, all humor was gone from his voice. “I’m not going to be around to keep my eye on him, so you’re going to have to do it for me. Don’t let him take advantage of you.”

Castiel nodded. “I won’t.” He met Gabriel’s hazel eyes, there was a notable darkness there. Castiel repeated, “I won’t.”

At his promise, the mischievous glint returned to Gabriel’s eyes. Big brother mode over. “I should head back. Call me whenever, okay?”

“Okay,” Castiel agreed.

At the sight of Gabriel leaving, Dean stood up, as if ready to walk him out. Gabriel continued to cross the living room without a pause, only turning back slightly to throw a, “Later, Winchester,” at Dean as he left.

Dean nodded, watching Gabriel walk out the front door.

John came around the corner into the kitchen then, his face dried and back to its normal color. The smile he wore was contagious, bringing Dean to a smile as well for no apparent reason. He noticed John rubbing his hands together, obviously not from being cold. John must had been feeling the same intense emotions as Dean. Something in the pit of his stomach, unable to determine whether it was fear, excitement, or a combination of the two.

They both stood there staring at each other, not knowing what to say. “Need help with anything?” John kindly asked.

“Not at the moment, thanks,” It could not be more awkward with just the two of them, Dean thought. “I did most of that last week.”

Castiel finally exited the bedroom. He crossed the living room to reach the kitchen where Dean and John were standing awkwardly in silence. He took a seat at the table and picked up a brochure that had been placed there.

“It’s a history club,” John noticed Castiel was reading his brochure. “It’s actually the one I was telling you about at Orientation.”

“Oh, right,” Castiel remembered. “UMQRA.” He turned the salmon colored paper to read the content on the back. “Every Wednesdays at six?

“If you’re interested, you could come with me and check it out,” John had cross the kitchen along with Dean. Dean had taken the seat next to Castiel, not interested in the brochure, but in getting off his feet for a moment. John read from over Castiel’s shoulder. “It comes with perks. They hook you up with a job at the university museum,” he paused to point to his name tag that was pinned to his uniform from his part time job as a security guard, “and if you need help with your homework, they help you out.”

Castiel’s eyes lit up with his smile. “Sure, I think I’ll check it out.”

“Great!” John’s hand gripped Castiel’s shoulder.

Dean cleared his throat, drawing Castiel and John’s attention to him. “Where’s the other guy?” Dean asked John.

John shook his head. “He was supposed to be here already. He might be in our room.” He lowered his voice and leaned in close. “He’s a private guy.”

“Well,” Dean spoke in a normal tone, “when he does get here, if he’s not already, we should go out to that diner across the way. It’s called Pig ‘n a Poke. I start work there on Tuesday and I thought it would be fun to go since they’re having a fundraiser.”

“The karaoke you were talking about?” Castiel asked.

“It’s fifty cents at the door!” Dean cheerfully added, voice booming. He got up from his seat and subconsciously walked to the fridge, opening it to retrieve his bottle of whiskey. He slammed the refrigerator shut, rattling the boxes of cereal above. He unscrewed the top. “Or, well, it’s open for donations, so you can donate more. I don’t know the rules. But, it’ll be fun! We’ll have fun! AM I RIGHT!”

No one immediately responded which made him realize how obnoxiously loud he had been talking. He might have been a bit overly enthusiastic. The embarrassment painted his cheeks red. He directed himself to Castiel for recovery. “Come, on. Good food, good music, and Cas,” he pointed his finger at him, “You promised.”

Cas sighed, defeated, but amused at Dean’s antic. “I did,” he grinned. “Calm down, I’ll go.” He turned to John. “We’ll all go, right?”

“I suppose it could be fun,” John said. “We should just wait for Sherlock to-”

The sound of a door opening made them all turn around, John and Castiel looked past Dean to the dark shadow which had entered from the living room. Dean turned around cautiously.

“Sherlock Holmes,” he announced to them as he stepped into the light from the kitchen. His light eyes scanned over the people he would be living with for the next year. Standing next to Dean, it seemed they were the same height, yet his long, thin frame made him look taller. His unruly dark hair fell in curls; some defiantly made their way onto his forehead. His dark clothing made him appear as though he had never seen sunlight before.

Castiel stood up. “Castiel Novak,” he said, before anyone, extending his hand out to Sherlock.

“Castiel, yes,” Sherlock said, taking his hand after a brief pause. His eyes scanning over the young man, making Castiel uncomfortable, so he pulled away from the handshake the moment Sherlock loosened his grip.

He turned to Dean, who was standing close by and acknowledged him, “Dean Winchester.” And finally turned his attention to John, who simply shook Sherlock’s hand.

“We’re all going out to Pig ‘n’ a Poke for karaoke,” John added. “It’ll be fun.”

“I’m afraid I’ll have to decline,” Sherlock smiled. “I have other matters to attend to.”

“I’m sure they could wait,” Dean chimed in. “Who knows when we’ll have another opportunity to go out together.”

“I suppose,” Sherlock shrugged. He glanced back into his bedroom. “I’ll only be a moment.”

“Don’t worry,” John said, heading toward the room along with him. “I need to change out of this.”

John and Sherlock retreated back to their room to ready themselves for the night. Dean smiled at Castiel, taking drink after drink from his father’s bottle.

“Not too much of that,” Castiel warned.

“I didn’t know this apartment came with a nanny deal,” Dean joked.

Castiel took the bottle from him. “Think of it more as a secondary mother.”

“Baby needs it’s bottle,” Dean swiped it from Castiel’s hands, making a getaway towards the living room. Castiel ran after him and tackled him down onto the couch. Cas pinned him down, straddling his waist, making effortless attempts to pry the bottle from his fingers. Neither could keep a straight face though, and soon the living room was flooded with the laughter of the two young men. Cas had given up and had his fingers inching up Dean’s sides to his armpits, where Dean was most vulnerable. With one swift move, Dean pushed Castiel onto the floor, all the while laughing and begging, “No, no, please, not there!”

Castiel landed on his back, fits of laughter still emanating from him. Dean lay flat on his stomach next to him, burying his face into the soft carpet, shaking from his muted laughter. When he finally looked up, he saw John and Sherlock looking down at them, John clearly amused.

“Tick tock, Doc,” Dean said, although he had no idea why.

“It’s getting late,” Castiel agreed, still grinning from ear to ear.

Pig n’ a Poke was rockin’ with an alcohol fuelled crowd, the music already audible from the outside, blaring with a badly sung Shania Twain song. Dean’s eyes flashed with excitement mirrored in his smile. He stood holding the door open only to look back at his entourage who was slow getting through the door. Castiel could sense John and Sherlock’s hesitation so he tried to pass that same level of excitement onto them, squeezing both their shoulders in encouragement as he pushed them through the open doors into the darkened room that awaited.

The room was excessively warm, humid from the sweat of the people dancing and singing inside. Sherlock looked around in observation, keeping his eyes on the door, drumming his fingers on the table that Dean had chosen for them. John was sitting by him, beginning to relax as the person on stage passionately sang Destiny’s Child’s “Survivor.” Dean and Castiel were shouting out the lyrics to the song, missing a couple of the words, but it didn’t seem to stop them.

After a few swigs of his whiskey he had snuck in, and sitting through mostly badly sang songs, Dean set down his bottle and smiled to them.

“So, who’s first?”

Castiel leaned back on his stool, so Dean could turn his attention from him to the next closest person. John gaped at Dean, but somehow was unable to refuse Dean’s drunken pleas to sing for them, which was strange because he had been able to refuse a few swigs from the bottle when Dean had offered.

“It’d be fun,” Castiel quietly encouraged in his ear.

“Oh yeah?” John challenged. “Well, well Mr. Fun, if I go up now, will you go after me?”

“Sure,” Castiel smiled.

Seemingly with no other options, John began his descent towards the stage, hearing the cries of the crowd. They were all for him. He chose his song fairly quickly. As soon as the song began, he realized he was too sober for what the crowd wanted. Most of the audience was completely hammered, but there he stood, completely dry with the song “Firework” by Katy Perry already starting. He couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous.

John had started off a bit stiff, but then he got really into it with a surprisingly powerful voice. Dean would even bet a fat stack of cash that this was not John’s first time performing this song, no matter how much John would deny it later. The crowd went insane and once the song was over, they chanted for him to sing one more. Instead, Castiel kept his promise and went up to take his turn.

Castiel also picked his song quickly, choosing to sing “Billie Jean.” Not that you would guess it by looking at him, but Castiel had some pretty impressive dance moves, and Michael Jackson had long been a favorite artist of his. He actually did a pretty good impression. As soon as his song began, the audience seemingly forgot about John’s performance and roared as they sang along. They all lost it when Castiel hit the high notes, pelvic thrusting and all. Dean took another swig from his bottle.

John took his seat by Sherlock, occasionally glancing at Dean, who already looked like he had had too many. His protest fell on deaf ears. He turned away and watched Castiel finish his song, with the ever-growing crowd cheering for him. He looked at Sherlock as he applauded Castiel. He was drinking a glass of water quietly.

“You should go up, Sherlock,” John offered. He chuckled as he said, “It’s actually not that bad.”

“I’m sure it’s quite the experience,” Sherlock answered. John couldn’t detect any sarcasm in his voice. He stared at him blankly. “I’d be happy to perform, John. I’m just not sure they’d take what I’d give.”

John shook his head. “Look at where we are, the people,” John raised his arms above his head. “These people could not care less what song you choose. As long as there is someone up there, they’ll keep going.” He turned to Dean for assurance, but there was a curly haired blonde on his lap, and no one had Dean’s attention at the moment but her.

Castiel reached their table, wiping away the bit of perspiration on his forehead. He was smiling from ear to ear. “It’s great!” He cried out over the crowd that had begun to sing along to “I Want it That Way.” Castiel dropped onto his seat and took a long drink from his glass, ordering another as the waitress passed. “We might want to move tables. I might go deaf if I spend another half hour by the amp.”

John laughed. He noticed a young woman staring at him from a table away, her long dark hair falling over her shoulders with dark lips and even darker eyes. Before John had the chance to consider hitting on her, he heard a familiar voice fall throughout the room. It was when he noticed that Sherlock was no longer sitting silently by him, but on stage.

Sherlock announced no song title. In fact, he had taken a step back from the microphone after introducing himself, and had pulled out a violin from God knows where. The crowd had fallen silent, save some scattered murmurs. He began to play a beautiful tune and the crowd remained quiet. The ambiance had taken a dive, but as the song’s melody resonated through the room, he began to win the crowd over. It was definitely an unexpected choice, and yet as the diner was filled with a beautifully melancholy tune, applause and praise began to escape the audience. Somehow everyone was really getting into it, and Sherlock was surprisingly very charming.

John and Castiel had been enjoying the performance as well when they turned to the drunken Dean, who had groaned loudly, “What is this?” He struggled to his feet, cupping his hands around his mouth as he cried out, “Boo! BOO!”

The crowd fell silent at the sudden interruption and watched Dean stagger on stage, joining Sherlock, who hadn’t stopped playing. He was soon drowned out when the bar was filled with the heavy guitar riffs of “Eye of the Tiger” and Dean took the microphone just as the lyrics began. Sherlock walked off stage and took his spot by John.

“You’re right, John,” a small but evident smile appeared on Sherlock’s face. “It was fun.”

John and Castiel smiled at him and watched Dean finish his song, making a bit of a fool of himself, but they let him go at it since he seemed so blissed out. They waited for him at the base of the stage and carried him out of the diner. He had, had enough fun for one night.

Dean had his arm wrapped around Castiel and John, with Sherlock walking in front of them. Dean’s head rolled on his shoulders at first, then kept it pressed against Castiel’s face. His arm reached around and poked Castiel’s nose.

“Boop!” he laughed and fell silent.

John smiled in amusement. “Does he do this a lot?”

Castiel nodded. “He’s actually not as bad as he used to be.”

John shook his head. “Good thing he has you.”

Castiel let his eyes fall on Dean’s arm, hearing his slow, steady breathing in his ear and the warmth of his face against his. He knew Dean wasn’t completely helpless. Hell, Dean was the most reliable and mostly responsible person he knew. He also knew that Dean would act up whenever they went out with other people and be a bit difficult. He had expected this behavior tonight, but he couldn’t let him go out alone. It had to be Castiel that made sure he got home. Sure, anyone could do that, but there was no guarantee they would make sure Dean arrived safely. When it came to Dean, Castiel didn’t trust anyone else but himself.

*

The walk from Pig ‘n a Poke was a short one, or at least, it felt like it. Soon enough, Dean collided with his pillow, groaning as his body sank into his mattress. His eyes were closed, but he smiled as he felt Cas pat his back between his shoulder blades.

“Where you going?” His was voice muffled by the pillow. He had no strength to pry open his eyes.

“We’re gonna watch a movie,” Castiel responded. “John’s setting up the TV right now.”

Dean turned over onto his right side, head unable to leave the pillow and eyes still glued shut. “I wanna watch,” he groaned.  
“No, no. Shut up and go to bed,” Castiel insisted. “That’s your punishment for not listening to me earlier. I’m gonna go get you a glass of water so you don’t have a hangover tomorrow.”

Castiel left and a few moments later, returned with the promised glass. He sat by Dean and pulled him up by the collar. The water was bitter in his mouth and Dean groaned after every drink. 

“This stuff is nasty.” Castiel merely smiled, enjoying Dean’s misery a bit. “I don’t want anymore.”

“Just this one and I’ll go,” Castiel raised the glass to Dean’s lips. Dean’s hand reached up to balance the glass as steadily as he could. When he had finished the last drop, Castiel took the glass from him. Dean fell back onto the pillow, welcoming the sleep that felt heavy on his eyes as Cas exited the room.

Dean was having trouble falling asleep though. On the one hand he was dead tired. On the other hand he found himself struggling with the thoughts that had been going through his mind all day, and were now demanding his attention. He tried to push them back. He wasn't ashamed of his feelings...just knew they would never work out. And he had long since made up his mind to not get his hopes up.

He heard no sign of his three other roommates, which meant they probably couldn’t hear him either . He kind of felt left out and wanted to join them, but his bed was warm and inviting, enough of a reason to stay where he was. Castiel would have immediately return him to bed anyway. Good, old reliable Cas, Dean thought. He was always looking out for him, and vise versa, Dean liked to think.

Dean rolled onto his back. He was alone with his thoughts now and his thoughts were of Cas. Castiel Novak. Somehow his same drunken thoughts managed to always come back to him, no matter how much he fought the temptation. Castiel’s familiar scent had already began to fill their small room, and Dean loved it. He loved that he when he woke up, the first eyes he would see were those soulful blue eyes that made the azure summer sky jealous.

Dean suddenly felt warm so he threw off his covers. Who was he kidding, he admitted to himself with a smirk. He was still pretty drunk, which made it easy for him to let his mind wander to one of his favorite memories of Cas. He thought about how the hot summer sun would tan him, with beads of sweat rolling down his back. Dean would let his eyes fall on Cas only when his back was to him, his broad shoulders, the dip in his back. When Castiel was facing him, he had to be more subtle. Little glances here and there, wanting desperately for Cas to just pin him down and grind his cock into Dean until Cas would beg to be fucked already.

Dean had been too lost in thought to realize that he had unbuttoned his jeans and had begun to stroke his hard cock. He picked up the pace, slicking his hand up with his own spit.

 _Fuck._ He shamelessly moaned into the darkness of the room. _Already gone this far._ He thought before picturing what Cas would taste like, picturing his lips. Then thought of those same lips looking up at him with his sinfully blue eyes as he took him in his mouth; how good Cas would feel inside of him; running his fingers down his chest as he fucked him into the mattress.

It had not been the first time thoughts of Cas had made Dean come apart. He had lost himself in him long ago. His desire kept him coming back for more. His pace quickened, he grabbed a tissue from the box on the nightstand as he felt his orgasm growing, panting Cas’s name in between involuntary moans. His head was pressed against the headboard. He came, turning his head, his unrestrained moans flooded the silence. Had he been sober he might have thought to be a bit quieter, but in his drunken stupor he couldn’t bring himself to care. Once he came down from his orgasm, Dean tossed the dirty tissue into the bin. He was blissed out, and drunk. He pulled the covers over himself, jeans around his ankles, and fell into a deep sleep.


	3. Blush and Fluff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not heavily edited, please excuse typos.

A Study in You and Me  
Ch. 3

Castiel couldn’t say for sure that what he was feeling was excitement. Curiosity flooded his senses, taking in the lecture hall with wide eyes, a small, but uncertain, smile creeping across his face. He carried his textbook in his arms, setting it down on the chair he had chosen. He noticed a group of students sitting toward the center seats, but couldn’t bring himself to socialize at the moment. He looked around the classroom. It was his first class of the day and as an official college student. He felt a nauseating feeling rolling about in his stomach.

The classroom filled out, strangers took the seats around him. Castiel occupied himself by writing his name at the top of his notebook paper. From what he had read online, Professor Moriarty seemed like a pretty cool guy. Most students recommended this professor, saying he wasn’t easy, but you’d definitely learn something. 

Cas absentmindedly tapped his pencil on his notebook, staring off into space, as his mind began to wander, recalling the morning he had, had. For his eight o’clock class, he had made sure to be up at six thirty to have enough time to prepare for his first day of school. He had been able to stick to his plan pretty well too: shower, groom, dress, eat, etc. Though, of course there had been small issues, like how there had been no more hot water (he suspected Sherlock); he hadn’t been able to find his favorite shirt (he suspected Dean); and there was only decaf coffee in the apartment (...John). But he had gotten through his morning, which was all the more successful because he hadn't woken up Dean. In fact Dean was probably still asleep now. He didn’t have class until noon, and that was enough time for him to recover from the hangover he would undoubtedly have. But still, Castiel envied him for being able to sleep in this morning.

A minute before class started, the professor entered the room. He was tall, but had a small frame. From his seat, Castiel could see the dark orbs he had for eyes that drew him in like an abyss. Although he smiled, there was a hidden maliciousness that sent Castiel into a small panic. The conversations quieted as the clock struck eight. This was it.

The professor clapped his hands together, scanning all the faces in his lecture hall. “I hope you all brought the syllabus,” the Professor announced, grinning, exposing some abnormally sharp teeth. He looked around to the silent lecture hall like a predatory animal. “If not, I have some more. Please raise your hand if you need one.”

After a moment of hesitation, a few hands flew up into the air. Castiel pulled his syllabus from his backpack and smoothed it over with his hand. He bit his bottom lip. Looking up nervously, he just happened to meet his teacher’s eyes. He immediately looked down.

This is going to be a long semester.

Professor Moriarty went through the course requirements. It was mostly reading assignments and of course, attendance was mandatory. He went through every week and when he finished, he answered questions.

“Before we go,” Professor Moriarty announced. “I’d like to talk about the second part of your final. You will be required to complete a group paper.” Scattered groans filled the air. “I will assign you topics on Wednesday, as well as the rubric. For now, please get into groups of four and one of you write your names down on a piece of paper and pass it forward.”

As everyone began to move around, Castiel scanned the room with the same panic he carried with him since the start of lecture. He obviously didn’t know anyone in the class. In the end he had to convince himself to approach the young man adjacent to him, who had greasy, long black hair and beady blue eyes. The guy agreed to be in his group and luckily two more people joined them of their own accord (the guy who had been sitting on the other side of Castiel and the young woman who had occupied the seat in front of him).

“Let’s start by introducing ourselves,” the greasy guy suggested. “I’m Anderson.”

“Molly,” the young woman stated, her long brown hair falling flat on her shoulders. She had a sweet smile spread across her face that Castiel couldn’t help but return.

“Castiel,” he said, still smiling.

The young man sitting next to Castiel was last to speak up, “Benny,” was all he said, with a slight nod of his head. His voice was laced with an accent that Castiel couldn’t quite put his finger on. Some sort of twang? His voice was deep, and fit his sturdy body type surprisingly well, Castiel thought. The guy was built like a lumberjack.

“Now would also be a good time to exchange contact information,” Professor Moriarty recommended. “I can’t imagine a group paper getting done properly if you don’t talk to each other, hmm?” He paused before adding in a more serious tone, “ And fair warning...if I find out that only one person did the work, and I will find out, that same person shall receive a zero. Trust me it’s for your own good.” He told the class. They waited to see if he would clarify, but it was obvious Professor Moriarty had nothing more to say as he reclined back in his chair and turned his attention toward his coffee mug.

Molly wrote down her name on a piece of binder paper and passed it around the group. Everyone wrote down their names and when it came back to Molly she turned it in like the other groups had done. A flood of papers kept rolling forward until the Professor had a good stack piled on an empty desk.

Castiel reached into his pocket and retrieved his phone, “Perhaps we should trade phone numbers?” he asked his group.

They answered with a mutual hum of agreement. Each pulled out their cells and took turns reading their numbers aloud so that everyone could take down contact information. Castiel tried to remember their name as he assigned numbers to them. His fingers fumbled while he tried to catch every digit the first time around, not wanting to bother them by asking for repetition. Everyone seemed eager to leave. 

As soon as everyone was done, they got up to go. Castiel grabbed his bag and threw it over his shoulder, watching his group start to pack up. He had some free time before his next class and debated on what to do. He could go back to his apartment, but there was really no point. 

Instead he decided to grab a cup of coffee at the café on campus. He needed to wake up a bit for his next class anyways, hoping to be a bit more interactive now that the first day jitters had subsided a bit. After receiving his order, he took a seat by the window and glanced out at his new surroundings. This new town was certainly very different than back home; it would take some getting use to. And he couldn’t help but feel a little homesick. He thought about calling Gabriel, but guessed that he was probably at work, as were his aunt and uncle. He really did miss them. 

Dammit, Castiel thought, feeling a bit pathetic. He lowered his head as he felt his false smile pull down into a frown, trading his anxiety for other useless emotions.

“Castiel,” he heard someone call out.

He looked up. He didn’t recognize the voice exactly, but met the blue eyes of someone sitting at a table not far from his. It was that guy from his class. Castiel tried to remember his name, but couldn’t. The only way he was able to distinguish him from the rest of the group was by the accent. Castiel merely waved at him, plastering another smile onto his face as he struggled to remember the name.

His classmate picked up his drink and made his way towards him. He put his hand on the chair across from Castiel and pulled it out from under the table. “May I?”

Castiel nodded, his mind was racing as he tried to recall their brief group session when introductions had been made. The only name he could recall was Anderson, but that had been the other guy. Why couldn’t he remember the name? 

Probably distracted by the accent, Castiel mulled.

“Have you started reading the Code of Hammurabi yet?” the other guy asked.

Castiel looked up from his coffee. “What? Sorry,” Castiel could feel himself blush. He hadn’t meant to be rude, but he had been distracted trying to jog his memory.

“Code of Hammurabi?” his groupmate repeated. “Read it yet?” 

“Oh, no, not yet,” Castiel admitted. “I might read it tonight.”

“Good thing it’s only an excerpt,” the young man continued, pulling his backpack up on the table, rummaging through it to find the reading assignment. “I couldn’t imagine having to read the whole damn thing.”

“Benny!” Castiel blurted out as the name suddenly came to him. And just as suddenly Castiel felt his face burn again when he realized he had spoken it aloud. Benny turned away from the printed assignment and met Castiel’s eyes, eyebrows quirked a bit. Then he grinned. 

“Benny Lafitte,” he added. “We met earlier-”

“No, yeah, I know,” Castiel stammered, embarrassed that he had been so transparent. “I’m sorry. I’m bad with names.”

“Then history is going to be a difficult class for you,” Benny joked. “I’ll help you out. Count your blessings that you have an honest-to-god history major in your group...talk about convenient-”

“-I am a history major,” Castiel interjected matter-of-factly, face only slightly less red than it had been a moment before. “I am,” he added for emphasis, in case Benny hadn’t believed him (even though he had given him no such indication).

“Um, regardless, please allow me to reintroduce myself. My name is Castiel.”

Benny smiled, “I know,” he said with a wink, “I was in your group at orientation. Of course I wouldn’t expect you to remember me, seeing as you were pretty wrapped up in that British boyfriend of yours.”

Castiel was confused for a second. Dean hadn’t been at orientation with him and he’s not my boyfriend, or British for that mat- oh, duh. He had indeed acquired a British roommate at orientation.

“I believe you’re referring to John Watson. He’s not my boyfriend. He’s my roommate, “ Castiel clarified, turning a bit pink at the thought, despite himself.

“Really? That’s good to know.”

Castiel didn’t have a response to that. His hands got sweaty, mouth got dry, and he started bouncing his knee to match the quick speed with which his heart was now pounding. He couldn’t help it, he wasn’t use to blatant flirting, especially from guys. He had no idea how to react. 

Surprisingly to Cas, Benny just roared with laughter. “Man, you’re gonna be an interesting one.” He chuckled, looking up to meet Castiel’s eyes, “I can tell.”

Their eyes locked for what seemed like a few beats too long, but even so Cas held Benny’s gaze. The mood between the two changed instantly when Benny let his playful expression fall from his face. Something in his eyes changed, and Cas could swear that he saw them flicker down to his lips. Finally, Castiel quickly looked away, turning towards the window to try and hide his blush. He drummed his fingers on the table, still feeling Benny’s eyes on him. 

“So,” Castiel began, stopping to clear his dry throat as he searched for a topic. “What other class do you have today?” He turned back to find Benny’s eyes still studying him.

“Actually, this was my only one,” Benny responded as he picked up his drink. “I have to go home and get ready for work.” He paused, taking a sip of his coffee, finally dropping his gaze. “Since you’re a history major, I’m guessing you’ve heard of UMQRA?”

“I have,” Castiel stared down at his black coffee, tapping his finger against the side to watch it ripple. It was meant to distract him from meeting Benny’s eyes again, but he let out a sudden chuckle that sent Castiel looking upwards. “What?” he asked, and he was surprised to feel butterflies in the pit of his stomach.

“Nothing, you’re just as cute as I remembered,” Benny teased, amused at the flustered expression it brought to Castiel’s face. “You are an interesting one.” He grinned and looked down at his watch. “Listen. If you have a hard time reading that Hammurabi law, you can text me. I’ve read it before and I can help you out. It’s not an easy read.” He told Castiel as he rose to his feet.

“Thanks,” Castiel responded with a small smile. Benny held his gaze once more, then turned around to leave.

What the hell just happened, Castiel thought. He felt a strange restlessness consume him, accompanied with a hot burn in the pit of his stomach, plus he would bet his life that his face was burning red at the moment. And despite himself, he couldn’t help but smile. He tried to shake those feelings off to no avail. Instead, his mind kept repeating the whole encounter over and over. Suddenly, he was ambushed by a heavy dose of guilt. the whole thing felt like a betrayal somehow.

He instantly thought of Dean. Dean wasn’t his boyfriend though, never had been. Castiel had no romantic obligation towards him, and thus had no reason to feel guilty...but he felt wrong for some reason. If he were being honest, the flirtatious encounter hadn’t been entirely unpleasant.

Was it possible he had misinterpreted the guy’s kindness and teasing as an advance? No way, who else looks at another man that way if he’s not interested. Castiel mused. Although, eventually he felt obligated to put a halt to that particular train of thought, his feelings for Dean preventing him from going too far with it. 

I have Dean, Castiel concluded, then immediately felt a bit embarrassed. He didn’t actually have Dean yet. But he couldn’t help and be a bit possessive of him, after all he had known Dean for years. He’s had feelings for Dean for years, and he’s always seemed to chose Dean over most anything. Castiel knew he would eventually have to do something about it. He just didn’t know how. He literally had no freaking clue.

Castiel sat in the cafe for a few more minutes before leaving for his next class. As he walked he had to make a strong effort to put a stop to the ridiculous scenarios he had been running in his head.

 

***

Castiel looked up from the book he was reading. He stared at the clouds passing overhead for a few seconds before closing his eyes and letting out a deep sigh. He turned to his left to find the source of the crashing noise that had prompted him to put his book down.

“Dean. What are you doing on the ground?” Castiel asked his friend, who had somehow lost his shoe, and was at the moment sprawled on the ground, detangling it from Cas’ skateboard.

“I fell over,” the kid replied lamely.

“What you’d fall over for?” Castiel shot back, picking up his book again.

 

“I didn’t do it on purpose. Asshat.” Dean said, finally freeing his shoelace from the skateboard’s wheel, and took the opportunity to throw a twig in Castiel’s general direction.

Castiel chuckled a bit and looked over at Dean to see if he would be able to manage to put his shoe back on unassisted. He seemed a bit out of it lately, helpless even. Castiel had known Dean for a few months now so it was easy to tell when something was bothering him. Dean hadn’t brought anything up though, and Castiel had yet to decide if he should ask him about it, so instead he opted to invite Dean over to hang out around the backyard. Maybe his friend would bring it up himself, and of course Castiel would listen.

It was weird how easily they had become friends after that day Castiel had saved...okay not saved, more like mitigated the amount of damage Dean would have received during a fight. Their friendship kind of just happened after that. At first Castiel had been suspicious because it seemed like Dean was hanging around him for the sole purpose of finding a way to pay his debt. Castiel half expected the, “I don’t want red in my ledger,” speech, and he really didn’t want that, truth be told, it would have been a bother.

Knowing Dean now though, Castiel guessed that making it up to him had been Dean’s motive for coming around his house, just to, “I don’t know, see how you’re doing I guess, “ as Dean had put it. Castiel had only let Dean in the house after his aunt had sent him a glare explicitly saying, “Don’t you dare be rude, young man.”

It only took a few hours for pretenses to be dropped between the two boys though. They easily fell into place with one another. Especially after discovering they had similar interests, and some not so similar. For example, Dean found it interesting that Castiel rode a skateboard. “Sure it looks cool, if that’s what you’re going for, but the chances of beefing it are way too high. It’s a flimsy piece of wood with tiny wheels on it. Why do you think I bike everywhere?” Dean had explained to Castiel.

In return, Dean had invited Castiel over to his house to play video games because apparently it was a sin to not know the wonders of a Mario Kart tournament. To Dean’s surprise, Castiel was quite naturally gifted at video games. “What the hell Cas?” Dean had roared with laughter after the last race of a tournament, “You can’t just nuke a guy with the blue shell right at the end and call it a victory! Where’s your honor?” and to emphasise his point, had smacked Castiel with a pillow.

“I don’t call it a victory,” Castiel had said, yanking the pillow from Dean’s hands and chucking it right back. “I call it Utter Annihilation!” They had laughed so hard that day, that Dean’s mother had to go and sush them.

They had been attached at the hip ever since.

Now that Dean had managed to put his shoe back on, he made his way towards the shady spot Castiel occupied under the tree, and plopped down right next to him. “Your skateboard hates me.” Dean mumbled as he let himself fall to the ground, lying on his back.

“Don’t sweat it,” Castiel responded, putting his book down again and turning his body toward Dean, “Skateboards aren’t really meant for tall grass. Also, your shoelaces were untied.”

Dean let out a small laugh, “Yeah, thanks for the heads up.”

“No problem,” Cas responded with a smile.

At that, Dean let out a cranky sounding sigh and looked up at Castiel, “Actually there is a problem.”

Castiel didn’t respond immediately. This was it, Dean was about to confide in him whatever it was that had been worrying him so much. Castiel just hoped he’d be of some use. “What’s going on Dean?” he asked.

Dean sat back up, and turned towards Castiel. They were staring straight at each other now. Dean was trying to choose the right words and Castiel was trying to be patient. He was starting to feel anxious though.

Finally Dean spoke up. “Irene Adler likes me,” he blurted out.

Castiel just stared back at Dean, “And?”

Dean threw his hands up in frustration, finally letting the word vomit spill forth from his mouth, “What do you mean ‘and’?! This is a girl, Cas, a high school girl. What if she asks me out, and we go out, and we have a good time, and I walk her home, and we’re standing on her doorstep and I-” Dean suddenly went silent, and looked down at his shoes.

Castiel was confused. Dean was frustrated, that much was clear. But about what? Irene Adler was very pretty and she was an older girl, already a sophomore in high school whereas Dean and Castiel were barely incoming freshmen. Why would Dean be upset over all of this? Knowing him, he should be ecstatic.

Dean let out another huff of breath before whispering something incoherently.

“What was that?” Castiel had to ask.

“I’ve never kissed anyone before.” Dean said a bit louder, still looking down. “What if I don’t know how. What if I’m so terrible, she never talks to me again. What if I choke?” Dean finally looked up at Castiel with wide eyes, panic clearly written on his face.

Castiel finally understood. And he had to muster all of his self control not to laugh at Dean, or roll his eyes at him for that matter. “Let me get this straight,” Castiel finally asked, “You, as Gabe would say ‘have your panties in a bunch’ because you’re afraid to kiss someone? Is it really that big of a deal? You kiss your mom all the time. You’ve even kissed my aunt!”

“Dude, I’m not afraid, okay. It’s just like I said I’ve never done it before and it’s not the same as kissing our parents! Irene is an older girl. One I’m not related to! You gotta figure she’s got plenty of experience under her belt and what if I-”

Castiel didn’t let him finish his sentence. Instead he leaned over a few inches and planted a soft kiss on Dean’s lips. Dean went rigid, but didn’t pull away. He let himself be kissed by Castiel for a few seconds, closing his eyes just as Castiel pulled away.

“There, “ Castiel broke the silence that had fallen between them, “You got your first kiss over with, now you can stop freaking out about it.” Castiel couldn’t quite grasp the importance Dean put on the order kisses came in. What did it matter if it were your first kiss or your fortieth kiss? It seemed more logical to focus on the actual moment, and the person you’re sharing it with, at least that’s the way Castiel thought. 

Dean, on the other hand seemed to be struggling with his thoughts at the moment. He was a strange combination of surprised and confused with a furious blush on his cheeks. He licked his lips and blinked a few times before looking directly back at Castiel. “Cas. What the hell man you can’t just,” he began in a breathy voice but then he shook his head a bit and refocused, “Was that your first kiss too?”

“Yes, it was. I guess I don’t have to freak if Irene Adler ever asks me out.” Castiel responded plainly. He dropped Dean’s gaze and leaned back to pick up his book again. He could feel Dean still staring at him. There were a few moments of silence before Castiel heard Dean chuckle under his breathe. He could feel Dean relax and out of the corner of his eye saw him fall back on the grass again.

“Sure, Cas. Good luck with that.”


End file.
